Harry Heaton

Harry was born in Chesterfield, Derbyshire, England. He was predeceased by his beloved wife, Joan Mary (Mears), and his beloved daughter, Carol Mary Whalley. He was also predeceased by his parents, Archibald and Clara, his brother Arthur, and great-grandchildren Emily and Treyden.

He leaves to mourn his children: Stephen (Deb) Heaton, Sandra (Fred) Francis, Tracy (Robert) Hoknes, Adam Heaton, and son-in-law Glen Whalley. His grandchildren: Taylor (Roberta), Courtenay, Darla, Shilo, Brittanie (Zack), Spencer, Jennifer (Edward), Jason, Cailey (Brian), Coltin, and Owen. He is also survived by 11 great-grandchildren.

Dad had an extraordinary life. He joined the army at 17 and followed his brother Arthur into the KOYLIs (The King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry). He played the clarinet in the military band and, at one point, the bass drum. During his military career, he served in live action combat three times—in Africa, Aden, and Egypt. His most heavily armed guard duty was at Spandau Prison in Germany, where WWII war criminals were held. From his guard tower, he watched Rudolf Hess and Albert Speer working in the prison garden.

His last year of service was when he met our mom, Joan, on New Year’s Eve in 1954. He also obtained his PTI (Physical Training Instructor) qualification while in the military and, in his spare time, trained boxers, soccer teams, and ran self-defense classes for women.

His brother Arthur had met Mom first and wanted to introduce her to “Our Youth” (Uncle Arthur’s nickname for Dad). He invited her to their home for a small get-together. Dad was on leave for the holidays. Mom thought she was meeting a young kid and showed up at Nana’s house with a date... we’re not sure what happened to the “date,” because from the moment Mom and Dad laid eyes on each other, the connection was instant. She called him a “bronze god”—he was tanned from deployment and as fit as a man could be.

Dad’s ultimate dream was to be a paratrooper. Realizing it wasn’t possible in his current unit, he completed his three years and left the military.

He then apprenticed under his Uncle Joe and became a Machine Tool Fitter (Industrial Mechanic). On March 30, 1959, Harry and Joan married and began their life together. Dad was always a fit man and looked for a sport that challenged both his strength and strategy. He found Judo—and thus began a lifelong passion. He helped found the Chesterfield Ju-No-Ri Club in 1960, both competing (as a Judoka) and teaching (as a Sensei). He was a sight to behold on the mat—his speed, agility, and precision were unmatched. He obtained his black belt (Shodan) in 1967. Known everywhere as a skilled fighter and sportsman, he mentored and shared his love of Judo with many.

Dad never forgot his dream. At 32, he rejoined the military—still determined to become a paratrooper. He was told he was too old, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. At that time, he had not an ounce of fat on him, but still had to drop 25 pounds to meet the weight restriction. He ran for miles in army boots, wearing a garbage bag over his clothes and carrying a bergen full of rocks. He ate only cabbage to make weight—just barely. He joined the 16th Para Company out of Lincoln and, during his 11 years as a paratrooper, traveled the world: Cyprus, Malta, Africa, Holland, Germany, Sicily, and Egypt, to name a few.

Our mom supported him wholeheartedly. By 1970, they had four children. She worked, raised us, and never once held Dad back from chasing his dreams. She knew who she married—and loved him for it.

By the mid-1970s, Dad grew concerned about England’s changing economy. The middle class was disappearing, factories were closing, and he worried for our future. A friend was moving to Canada and suggested he apply to the same mine. In March 1976, Dad arrived in Canada to prepare for our arrival. Mom stayed behind to sell the house and pack up four children—and our dog, Sally. In October 1976, Mom, Carol, Stephen, Sandra, Tracy, and Sally joined him. Adam was later born in Canada, the first birthright Canadian in our family.

Dad worked at the mine until his retirement at 65. During his working life, he served as Union President of USW Local 7656 and held multiple positions. He was a brilliant Industrial Mechanic and Rigger—he could diagnose a machine by the vibration it made. He also served on the OHS Committee and was passionate about workplace safety.

His love for Judo continued. He partnered with Vincent Seymour and his son Steve to start a Judo club in Watrous—again called Ju-No-Ri, after the original in Chesterfield. He passed on his love of the sport to countless students and their children. Dad served as Saskatchewan Judo President for six years. At 56, he competed in the Saskatchewan Masters. He hadn’t competed since leaving England but entered out of pride—he wanted everyone to know he was still a Judoka, not just a Sensei. He took the gold—despite being twice the age of most competitors. Dad officially retired from teaching Judo at 78. He was a 4th Dan (Yondan) at the time. The relationships he formed through Judo—in both Canada and England—were deep, lasting, and full of mutual respect.

Dad had many hobbies: he built replica guns, knives, and cannons—crafting each piece by hand from wood and metal, even the screws. He was a talented carpenter and built every room, cupboard, and most of the furniture in their home. Together, he and Mom created a stunning traditional English garden in their backyard, once featured in a Saskatchewan gardening magazine. Mom could grow anything; Dad could build anything she imagined.

Family was always his greatest love. Our parents ensured we had regular vacations—whether camping or road trips across western Canada and the U.S. Those adventures are forever etched in our memories—usually full of chaos, laughter, and a bit of bad luck.

When we lost Mom in 2019, Dad missed her deeply. It was hard, but he was a survivor and kept going, just as he always had. He remained sharp as a tack right to the very end.

Dad had a gift for humour—he could’ve been a comedian. He was a master storyteller, and anyone who knew him has a favourite tale from his adventures around the world. He was brave, brilliant, and humble—loved and respected across the globe.

A tentative date of September 13, 2025 has been set for his wake at his home in Watrous: 111 6th Avenue West. It will be a come-and-go gathering from 2 p.m. to 5 p.m.As Dad always said: “In this family, we celebrate the life—not the death.”

Rest easy Daddy.

Cherished Memories is honoured to be entrusted with the care and arrangements for Harry.